making love… She practically shivered at the thought of being in Sam’s arms.
“Cold?” Sam asked, and she quickly said, “No, no. I’m fine.”
He smiled. “I’ve got a caterer lined up, the town grapevine ready to roll as soon as we give the signal, and I made sure my tux fits.” He put a jeweler’s box on her desk, and Seton’s gaze jumped to his.
“What is it?” she asked, knowing but not sure she wanted to know.
“What every man gets the woman he’s marrying,” Sam said. “Open it.”
“I— Sam, we really don’t need to be super-fancy,” Seton protested. “It’s a fake wedding. It would feel wrong to wear a ring—”
Sam raised his brows and smiled. “In Diablo, you wear a ring or lots of gossip gets started.”
“I guess so. You’re right.” Reluctantly, she opened the box and smiled at the sparkling diamond band. “I love it,” she said. “Sam, it’s perfect. It’s feminine and beautiful, but not flashy. Thank you.”
He nodded. “Glad you like it. Slip it on.”
She hesitated. “I hadn’t given any thought to rings. What about yours?”
“My what?” His expression filled with innocence she was certain was a deliberate ploy.
“Your band,” Seton said.
“Oh, I’m not wearing one,” Sam said, and she snapped her box closed.
“I’ll get you one.”
“I’m a cowboy. I can’t wear a ring,” Sam said, and Seton knew he was trying to get her worked up.
He was succeeding admirably.
“All your brothers wear wedding bands.”
“Yeah.” Sam leaned even farther back in the chair, looking completely at ease, a man of the world who made the decisions everyone else lived by. “But they’re pansies.”
Seton’s lips thinned. She wasn’t certain if she should push the ring issue. It was a marriage of convenience, after all. “If you don’t want to wear a ring, it makes no difference to me,” she said nonchalantly. “But I thought the purpose of us getting married was so that you’d get your part of the ranch without having to marry someone your aunt fixed you up with. And if she suspects our marriage isn’t real, she may forfeit your portion.”
“That’s true.” Sam’s brow creased. “‘No tricks’ is in the papers she had drawn up for the ranch. And I suppose not wearing a ring would encourage other ladies to wonder if I was available.”
“Probably,” Seton said sweetly. “If that’s what you want, I’m sure Lacey and Wendy would be happy to figure out that we have a fake marriage.”
He frowned. “Since you want me to wear a ring so badly, I guess I’ll swing by the jeweler’s and pick one up.”
“You do that,” Seton said. “In the spirit of the masquerade, it’s probably best.”
“I just want you to be happy, my dove.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Sam, don’t overdo it.”
He laughed and pulled an identical ring box out of his pocket, putting it next to hers. “I’m into looking one hundred percent legitimate.”
She opened the box and gazed at the plain gold band. “Simple and effective. I approve.” She handed it back to him, thinking he was a rat and she was going to have to keep her wits about her or he’d be deviling her all the time.
“So put yours on.” He indicated the box still sitting on her desk.
“No, thanks.” She handed it back to him. “I’ll wait until the big day. It’ll be more meaningful that way, don’t you think?”
Sam’s lips quirked. “If you say so, bride.”
“I do say so.” She could tell he was disappointed she wouldn’t put the ring on, but after the charade with his ring, it served him right. “Sabrina’s going to be my maid of honor.”
He raised a hand for her to high-five. “We did it!”
They slapped palms briefly, and before she knew what was happening, Sam took her hand and pressed it to his lips. Her eyes went wide. He kissed her fingers, every one, and then he said, “And not a moment too soon.”
She told herself to breathe. “Too soon for what?”
“For my ham-headed brother. Wendy
“Cold?” Sam asked, and she quickly said, “No, no. I’m fine.”
He smiled. “I’ve got a caterer lined up, the town grapevine ready to roll as soon as we give the signal, and I made sure my tux fits.” He put a jeweler’s box on her desk, and Seton’s gaze jumped to his.
“What is it?” she asked, knowing but not sure she wanted to know.
“What every man gets the woman he’s marrying,” Sam said. “Open it.”
“I— Sam, we really don’t need to be super-fancy,” Seton protested. “It’s a fake wedding. It would feel wrong to wear a ring—”
Sam raised his brows and smiled. “In Diablo, you wear a ring or lots of gossip gets started.”
“I guess so. You’re right.” Reluctantly, she opened the box and smiled at the sparkling diamond band. “I love it,” she said. “Sam, it’s perfect. It’s feminine and beautiful, but not flashy. Thank you.”
He nodded. “Glad you like it. Slip it on.”
She hesitated. “I hadn’t given any thought to rings. What about yours?”
“My what?” His expression filled with innocence she was certain was a deliberate ploy.
“Your band,” Seton said.
“Oh, I’m not wearing one,” Sam said, and she snapped her box closed.
“I’ll get you one.”
“I’m a cowboy. I can’t wear a ring,” Sam said, and Seton knew he was trying to get her worked up.
He was succeeding admirably.
“All your brothers wear wedding bands.”
“Yeah.” Sam leaned even farther back in the chair, looking completely at ease, a man of the world who made the decisions everyone else lived by. “But they’re pansies.”
Seton’s lips thinned. She wasn’t certain if she should push the ring issue. It was a marriage of convenience, after all. “If you don’t want to wear a ring, it makes no difference to me,” she said nonchalantly. “But I thought the purpose of us getting married was so that you’d get your part of the ranch without having to marry someone your aunt fixed you up with. And if she suspects our marriage isn’t real, she may forfeit your portion.”
“That’s true.” Sam’s brow creased. “‘No tricks’ is in the papers she had drawn up for the ranch. And I suppose not wearing a ring would encourage other ladies to wonder if I was available.”
“Probably,” Seton said sweetly. “If that’s what you want, I’m sure Lacey and Wendy would be happy to figure out that we have a fake marriage.”
He frowned. “Since you want me to wear a ring so badly, I guess I’ll swing by the jeweler’s and pick one up.”
“You do that,” Seton said. “In the spirit of the masquerade, it’s probably best.”
“I just want you to be happy, my dove.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Sam, don’t overdo it.”
He laughed and pulled an identical ring box out of his pocket, putting it next to hers. “I’m into looking one hundred percent legitimate.”
She opened the box and gazed at the plain gold band. “Simple and effective. I approve.” She handed it back to him, thinking he was a rat and she was going to have to keep her wits about her or he’d be deviling her all the time.
“So put yours on.” He indicated the box still sitting on her desk.
“No, thanks.” She handed it back to him. “I’ll wait until the big day. It’ll be more meaningful that way, don’t you think?”
Sam’s lips quirked. “If you say so, bride.”
“I do say so.” She could tell he was disappointed she wouldn’t put the ring on, but after the charade with his ring, it served him right. “Sabrina’s going to be my maid of honor.”
He raised a hand for her to high-five. “We did it!”
They slapped palms briefly, and before she knew what was happening, Sam took her hand and pressed it to his lips. Her eyes went wide. He kissed her fingers, every one, and then he said, “And not a moment too soon.”
She told herself to breathe. “Too soon for what?”
“For my ham-headed brother. Wendy
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